Alex Willow
by Columba Janthina
Summary: About Megumi's death


_Absinthe is well for some who are drowned men in life_

(Axl Low)

The night was quite good for meeting together: warm, incredibly dry for the normal London weather, bewitching, like in every May, and such... saturdaily-unconcern.

- Where're we going, bro? - asked Misty made herself comfortable on the front seat.

- To "Ruby Lo", - answered Lewis, who drove tonight, and so he who paid the piper called both the tune and the route.

- So what are we doing there? Stamping feet of each other? - returned Mallory behind, whose mood had become the worse to night, so he was ready to answer "Black!" to every "White?", - It's Saturday night - do you have any idea, HOW MANY people have already hustled there?

- And what are you offering to do _here_? To arrange the vote? - answered Misty, with some irritation, who couldn't endure Mallory's bad mood and knew well when he grumbles essentially, and when - for nothing, - Blaze, what do you think?

- Oh, I don't care, - purred Megumi, who decided today to be a good girl and to play "Alex Says". She put her head on the shoulder of the man sitting next to her and breathed in the smell of his sweater one more time: such a nice fragrance, it seems to be "Kenzo Homme", - All places are good for us, when we're together, aren't they, _Jack_?

The face of light-haired boy taut as if the tooth, which had been ached over the years but had never cured, began to pain him again.

- ... sorry, - said Megumi, caught herself on the blooper too, - I take it simply from habit.

Rarely she apologized to anybody in such cold tone.

Misty sighed.

* * *

Sometimes Alex hated his name and surname. Because they sounded almost like "AXL LOW".

* * *

And Misty, on the other hand, thought it is extremely fortunate. And making them acquainted had also gone well. Really, Alex is almost like Axl: he's blonde too, and he's tall too... And maybe Axl would be a good Alex, if you cut his hair like a normal guy, put an impudent and assured grin away from his face, dressed from his ridiculous dirty shirt-"flag", smelled of smoke of bonfires and wine flavours of pubs of every seam in normal clothes fitting him, added stylish light-rimmed glasses to it; if you also transferred him to the Faculty of Law from the Faculty of Photographic Arts and made him graduate through it successfully; if you changed tatty jokes pouring out from him like small change from a pocket full of holes for Alex's earnestness, giddy optimism - for a healthy view of the life, self-confidence - for determination, recklessness - for prudence...

Okay, they don't seem very similar so much, let it be - but Alex only gains in this comparison! He knows what he wants from life and he's going to get it, he has almost graduated the Colledge, he has been earning his own money for a long time, he knows painting (umph, Axl, who had Fine Arts on his faculty as one of main subjects, seems never learned to distinguish Manet's brush from Monet's one!), and he, unlike some other persons, isn't a womanizer at all, and he can court his lady love smart and costly...

Misty thought that it was a pure luck for Megumi. And she was right to make them acquainted. Any friend, even less close and thoughtful than Misty, would have done the same thing. If she found Megumi in such... condition. If she listened Megumi frequently saying and looking at Misty like at the leader of the rescue team: "But he is posted missing, not dead, so he is somewhere and he is alive, Misty, perharps, he need a help, Misty, oh Misty, why have they canceled the recovery mission, why have they ceased to search him, Misty, why!"

Misty wanted to answer her cynically and cruelly (cause she had only lately and reluctantly got out of that black gulf of derpession herself in which Megumi has been panting now, and he didn't want to be back there again). You were there with us, Blaze, you saw your own eyes what had left in the area of the explosion. Even if they were able to scrape those psycho-pyromaniac off from the chunk of the wall, in the case of our Axl rescuers were seriously puzzled: where _else_ should they continue the search? Can you just imagine how many axls he could have been rended to by this explosion all over the place?!

And all because Low has always been a complete infanta: the responsibility for another person, evidently, bothered him more than his own death. As always, he had nobody with him as a workmate! And he went alone hassling that nuts pyromaniac! As always, he "didn't think" the pyromaniac would be also a chargeman, and what versed one!...

(Oh, Axl-Axl... What a blundering empty-headed idiot you are).

He who can't take care of himself - won't be able to take care of someone he loves. Sooner or later he would get Megumi into a great deal of trouble, too. What though Alex used to smile much less than Axl (but his eyes aren't spiteful at all), and he doesn't like empty chatter, and he doesn't meddle wars of a street tough...

Megumi will feel good beside him... she will feel _better_ beside him.

She was right to make them acquainted.

Every time she saw Megumi and Alex together, Misty assured herself of it the more desperately.

* * *

As expected, Mallory complained in vain: they made the most crowded company in "Ruby Lo", with all who had come later. And the noisiest, especially as the greater share of this noise was made, as usually, by Blaze:

- ... and then he said to her: "I dunno, maybe, I'm just not much of a lover, BUT THIS SNOWMAN YOU WILL DO REMEMBER FOR LONG!".

The last word of her little story was drowned in their general, not quite sober laughter yet. Blaze laughed thrown back her head a little, showed her teeth, and chatted to all fo them at once, as if she hadn't seen them for a year at least, and she was there where she should be - in the spotlight of her company and even of somebody present. Young men smiled, listening to their laughter and lively conversations and keeping an eye on Blaze: that cute redheaded chick, with rosy cheeks, bright eyes and tousled hair a bit, nestles somewhere in the corner of the leather sofa, but she can be seen and heard from there to anyone. So it would be fun and lovely, but Misty knew some her states well enough to realize that this "chick" had soused unseemly. And she has somehow missed this moment.

- What has she had to be so drunk? - Misty turned to Lewis. As he drove tonight, he took the same moderate part in the general shindig.

- "Teya", I suppose, as usual.

- The last thing we need is "Teya", - Misty shook her head disapprovingly.

Generally, Blaze always drank alcohol cleverly and knew her measure, but her favorite "Teya", with vermouth and pink absinthe, didn't just blow her mind - it was buried with small bits of sanity in ginger flames.

- We shouldn't have let her do it.

- Okay, stop cooing at her, Mummy, - flung Mark to Misty, laughing, - She wanted to get drunk and she has got drunk, Blaze is already a big girl, hm?

It was all right for others too, apparently. It was easier to be near with _such_ Megumi: who was herself again. Than with that, who looked with strange feeble unseeing gaze, because she didn't want to see anyone; who stifled, cried in her sleep and called the same name; who being in a public place could suddenly rush through a crowd after the one, who couldn't be there for sure but who was noticed only by her; who managed to get lost in two familiar quarters from her house and couldn't explain after where she was.

It's so hard to see the tears of the ones who always encourage others and the desperation of the ones who are always strong in spirit.

Misty glanced at their sofa; it turned out that Blaze has flitted from their "little nest" and now was flirting with a young bartender. If only she didn't drink any more.

The bartender showing off before the girl twirled a curled bar spoon in his fingers, caught up a tumbler thrown over his shoulder, juggled a bottle of tequila and two shakers no long, but showily, then held the bottle on his bent elbow for some time, shook a little lump of ice shimmering in the red, green and blue neon lights of club, up in the air from the one tumbler and caught in another tumbler. The last which flew down gracefully in the tumbler, to tequila, bitter and grapefruit was a bud of orchid appeared from nowhere. The bartender smiled, winked the girl: recognizing her as the same ringleader as he was just the other side of the bar.

- Lewis'll take home you and Alex, - Misty touched her friend's elbow, rose her voice, as the music became louder too.

- Hoooome?... - Blaze spun around on the high bar stool so quickly, that she had to leap at Misty's shoulders to stop the spin, - But I don' wanna go home, I wanna... dance!

In another minute she was already on the dance floor where something cheery and rhythmical was just turned on, so she could equally well jump to this music, and swing all the pretty parts of her body, and shake her long hair vigorously.

Silver disco sparkles skipped on sequins of her soft white sleeveless jacket. What a kind of people it is who does just one thing best in their lives: this thing - is their own _life_. Even when they tried to dance and their feet tangled in each other, and thin heels, like mosquito noses, faltered. So they danced well, at the same time.

There are such kind of people. Though they are rare enough.

Misty sat down on the sofa beside Alex; he who was courteous and careful and never left Megumi all the night, understood: where he definitely felt out of place beside her was the dance floor. However Axl didn't use to long for dancing there, too, as she recalled.

- Well, here's someone else who hasn't been amused by Blaze tonight, - Misty chuckled, - She's loosing her skill.

- Hmmm. I am just not given to laughter, - the crowd moving continually in the changing colors reflected in Alex's glasses, - But it doesn't prevent me from understanding Megumi.

He never called her "Blaze". Never once.

"And from admiring her", - added Misty to herself, - "You're enchanted with the same as others: how much she enjoys her life. And everyone looking at her remembers periodically how to do it".

Deep house on the dance floor has just flowed into the more quiet soul, and Blaze's moves changed with it to more smooth, plastic and... much more erotic (and the number of looks at her has increased elusively). She played with her hair, fluffing and letting them down on her shoulders, clasped her hands touchingly and girlish shyly, then suddenly began to stroke each contour of her body: shoulders, breast, waist, hips; clenched and wrinkled to folds her dress, rocked on her heels which made her legs much longer visually, arched her back, slowly spread her knees covered with black stockings, and danced dressed like naked, almost transcending bounds of propriety for a normal club dance...

Well, it was quite a sight. Especially Blaze _knew_ about it.

- You aren't angry with her for "Teya", are you? - asked Misty.

- No. Don't worry, I won't let her jump on tables and earn a bit as a stripteaser here, - grined Alex, - As soon as she has danced enough we'll go home.

- And for that she still take you like..., - Misty took a chance in a low voice; though he was more sensitive to the undertone.

- No, I'm not angry for that too, - repeated Alex and smiled a little; he had only one smile unlike Axl: _genuine_ smile. And most often it was intended to Megumi.

- I remember that I am not him. Not like this Axl Low. I'm sorry about it. I can't take his place for her, but I can make her happy. Because Megumi won't go on living the past all the time, - spoke Alex, not knowing how awfully he will be RIGHT soon.

Misty nodded without speaking, rather to herself. Of course, he will make Megumi happy. If even someone like Axl had been able to do it (though he did absolutely nothing for it) - Alex can't be failed. And Megumi loves life too much to spoil it for Alex and herself. She'll get used to him.

... maybe will fall in love with him.

So... they're gonna be alright.

* * *

A little before half past midnight the sky was overcast with familiar ashen-brown clouds. The night rode on them flapping glistening ribbons of amber streetlights.

- "I've died every day waiting for you, darling, don' be afraid, I've loved you for a thousand years... loved you for a thousand more...", - struck up Megumi melancholically and softly, together with Christina Perry singing in Lewis's car, - Stop your car, huh?...

- Right here? Where am I parking it, my darling?

- Oh, please, stop it!... I f-feel si-i-ick..., - she groaned anguishly as possible through the palm over her mouth.

- Open the window and stop playing the fool. Suffolk Lane is two turnings away.

Rather, one turning. At the Queen Street Place crossroad she leaned against the driver's seat, and Lewis heard her voice, low, clear and almost not screwed, by his ear:

- Stop playing the fool for yourself. You stop your car IMMEDIATELY and let me out to take the air - or I will puke all the interior of your car.

- You're unbearable, Blaze, - grumbled Lewis without rancour and sighed.

* * *

As expected, outside Megumi suddenly felt better. She even was able to reel to Southwark bridge, without Alex's help, who went out with her, and sat down on the rail. Though, a patchwork doll would sit on it steadier, than her now. The wind gusted jestingly, like an old good friend, in her face upturned to the sky, and whirled "Teya" away from her head, in a weightless and furious waltz, under appearing and disappearing stars, above the fluid and motley of lights of downtown river.

- Be careful, - Alex held Megumi, staggered back. Most of all he wanted just to lift her off the rail now, but the problem was that Megumi didn't want it. Her head sank on to her breast, so her hair fell in her face hiding it, then she took Alex's hands in her and laughed very quietly and somehow very softly.

- Oh no, I have nothing to fear. You won't let me fall, - she said playing with his fingers and still not looking up, - Even if you're a several years late hopelessly, in the last moment, anyway, you'll run here and won't... let... something bad... happen.

The girl curved her legs, pressed her knees together and stick her heels through the railing of the bridge - so she somehow became to look like a stone mermaid, with which the bridge was decorated.

- When you are here - I have nothing to fear... Me..., - spoke the girl on the exhale, - ... and the whole our filthy East End. What did you tell... "To have quiet and peaceful streets, to get home safely in the last evening, and nobody will be beat or murdered in the gateways for a couple of pounds in a pocket"?

Megumi gave a long graceless snigger scratching her throat.

- You show your whole soul in that: you don't think about yourself for an instant, you don't forget about others for an instant... Even if these "others" don't bother about you. Anyone you had protected ain't got nothing to do with your kindness, with your courage, with your useless altruism, you know. Don't you remember how many times you were taken to a police station with these and that scumbags, bastards and other scoundrels? How many times you were abused as an initiator of street riots?

- And believe me, - added Megumi smiling wryly again, - East End is the same shit, as it has been before. You have changed nothing in it. Nothing.

- And yet you were _with them._ With them, who cares nothing to you, - Megumi's voice grew lower, almost shrinking to a whisper, - Every time, going to separate some dopey freaks, - you were with them. And you didn't be with the one who really held you dear. You can't imagine what a miserable and lonely man is the one who stays at the window all night, drinks coffee instead of sleeping and wonders about what was done to you in _this_ fight: had they killed you or just broken something and graciously dropped in a entryway till morning.

The girl pulled his palms to her, buried her face in them, and Alex felt that something wet slipped through his fingers.

- They said about you: "Maybe his head is full of nonsense, but he has a big heart in his chest". Yeah, - she took a shaking breath, - It was so big, that a place for whole East End was found in it, you know. And there was no any place for me. You didn't care what would happen to me, when you had gone.

Alex was silent. He suddenly fancied that it wasn't just the cool of evening sweeping down from the river - it was _cold._ Megumi didn't even shrink in her thin sleeveless jacket, but he had already trembled. As gently and tenderly as he was able to Alex wiped away her tears by his thumbs and brushed back her hair. Gathering them behind her shoulders, clenching in his fist, tying them the more, certainly hurting her yet. He really wanted to hit her - every time she told about it, again and again. But Alex still was a young man of good family, who was learned, that he must not raise his hand against a woman and should countenance those who lost someone loved.

- Listen, - he said, not understanding, why his hands were trembling, he was gasping and floundering so anxiously and mindlessly, - You need to go home, you are drunk, you're raving. I am not your Axl Low - and that's why I would never treat you as him, never! But, listen, our life will be different, our life will be - _better,_ only please, _please,_ PLEASE, stop taking me as another man! stop loving me as another man!

With the agility unexpected for her languid state, the girl leaned forward, bent, grabbed the collar of Alex's shirt, pulled up a little, and...

She had never kissed him _so._ With such powerful and reckless feeling, so lasciviously and lustfully, so voraciously, taking breath away like a succubus.

- It's a damned right remark, - said Megumi when her insatiable lips and tongue left his mouth alone at last. Something calm, far from drunken fumes, from hysterics, from the depressive apathy, reflected in girl's eyes with skin flushed a little around them. So it was even more awful.

- You are - not him. Thinking of you as Axl just for a minute - that would be a real RAVE.

With these words Megumi abruptly pushed him away from her (or rather pushed away from him?) waved her hands and scratched the cloth of his shirt and the air by her long nails - and fell down backwards from the bridge. Without a single cry.

Alex's arm caught nothing.

Darkness had swallowed her faster than water - neither face, nor silhouette could be seen. Only her long red locks drawned mildly to him in the air for a while, like thin smouldering branches.


End file.
